


Mulled Cider

by chiixil_84



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Developing Relationship, F/M, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Pre-Relationship, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:16:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiixil_84/pseuds/chiixil_84
Summary: “Then I guess I’ll take the master, and you’ll take the couch?” Jasper asked, her tone lilting in a half-joking tone. Danse’s blank look was enough to have the woman half-heartedly wave her hand, adding with a shake of her fiery head, “Never mind. Old World humor.”“Your humor does seem to be more on the nose than I’m used to, Jasper,” the paladin retorted, watching her carefully. She simply gave him a shrug.“The world I lived in was full of jokes like that.”Jokes that, if she was being entirely honest with herself, weren’t funny in the slightest. Slurs used to contextualize people deemed “different” were used in political slogans to rally the “normal populace,” laws were put in place to hold victims accountable for the things their abusers put them through while the abusers got off with little to no punishment, scrutiny at immigrants and the actions of international governing bodies that threw the world from one war to another over the most meaningless things while the world burned...-AKA, Female SoSu and Danse have a late Christmas at the Prydwen, and memories don't always stay in the past. Gift for DangerMom! Thank you for letting me into your world <3





	1. Prairie Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Whiskey and Wine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520442) by [DangerMom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerMom/pseuds/DangerMom). 



Christmas came and went, and the population of the Prydwen completely forgot about the Old-World holiday without much concern. With the preparation to fight the Institute firmly planted in the forefront of everyone’s mind, the soldiers were forced to work harder and longer as their efforts to fortify the airport were deemed insufficient.

Many of the lower ranking Brotherhood soldiers were far too exhausted to complain about not receiving a feast like they might have had back at the Citadel, caught up in the fear that their friends and families would be gunned down by synths or, worse, replaced by one; the officers, often doubled up on duties already, would swap out the traditional sense of gifts for better shifts (and on desperate occasions, some Jet Fuel) as their expanded-upon roles smothered their lives to the point of having little to no time to sleep or commune with other Brothers and Sisters.

The fact that there hadn’t been any hint of snow over the Commonwealth this past season had gone right over the Brotherhood’s heads as well – though, the locals spoke at lengths about this oddity, whispering rumors to the foreign body of soldiers of what omens the snowless winter would bring, but the superstitions fell upon deaf ears as the Brotherhood marched on.

War was war, after all, and they were readying themselves for what they hoped would be the last. What were a few old wives tales compared to the threat of human kind’s eradication?

There seemed to be only one officer not associated with Prydwen duties throughout these few freezing months, and he took full advantage of it, considering himself to be the luckiest Brotherhood soldier in this wasteland.

Elder Maxson had given him the task to roam the Commonwealth for a few weeks, to search for and subsequently destroy any activity that would harm the Brotherhood’s current plans to expand and prepare for the upcoming battle.

Though his work specifically focused on neutralizing threats from the Institute, the Gunners had been awfully quiet as of late and the Elder worried their absence would come at an inopportune moment for the Brotherhood. Having his best paladin on the hunt would bring much comfort to the young Maxson, as well as ensure that the mission would be done thoroughly with  _no_  threat left to wander the wasteland come spring.

Even something as grueling as a scout-and-wreck mission came as a godsend when compared to stewing in the tense atmosphere of the Brotherhood’s flying fortress at its breaking point.

To bask in the relief of not being cooped up with dozens of other hyper-tense soldiers, Danse had asked Jasper to join him with this extended tour. Seeing as how she had a bone to pick with both enemy factions, it only seemed like justice would be served by allowing her the opportunity to do some major damage to them.

Though she seemed to thrive in the tension that the Brotherhood radiated, at the chance to jump-ship, Jasper leaped.

Danse knew this would not be her first mission after their disastrous trip to the Glowing Sea, but it  _would_ be her first assignment away from any medical personnel waiting close by: the soldier’s gait was half a step slower than she used to be, with a stiffer shoulder when shooting a rifle and severely limited range of motion when slugging around her sledgehammer; in their prior short-term missions, the brilliant redhead had taken on a slightly more passive role than she had prior, leaving more of the decision making to Danse and would only correct him with a usually silent but overall gentle exchange.

The half a dozen missions she’d successfully (albeit slowly) accomplished gave him relief that she  _had_  been healing, as did the knowledge that she hadn’t been involved in any difficult tasks that would have caused her any further complications.

All things considered, it was nothing  _life-threatening_ , but worrisome all the same. The last time Danse noticed yet did not help a soldier who had been behaving in an odd manner after a traumatic experience, the mistake had cost the soldier his life. After that soldier’s funeral, the paladin promised he would never let it happen again.

He  _knew_ Jasper was more than just a novelty, and that she could handle herself  _no matter_  the situation at hand – to strike this up as him simply being nervous, however, was a severe understatement. Asking her to join him on this operation had a two-fold benefit: for the Brotherhood’s  perseverance , and  to settle  his fears that the woman out of time would have no further harm done to her (or perhaps, to trust  _himself_  with a partner again; either thought made him feel nauseous, and he didn’t want to think much further on what the feelings meant).

Despite the constant worry/assurance ping-ponging around in his head, he’d settled on his promise to watch over her – and literally did so.

The physical act of looking over his shoulder had become more laborious the longer they spent scouting the wasteland –  _the damned power armor certainly didn’t help, either_ – but that had been a walk in the park compared to not being  _noticed_ that he was constantly looking over to her.

He thought he’d done a decent job at hiding his worry from Jasper over the last few weeks.

But... every night they spent out here, his nightmares were becoming increasingly out of control.

Her scream, her seizing body, the far too many close calls she had on the flight to the Prydwen, the night she went missing...

 _Those black_ _, pulsing_ _veins..._

Even if this scouting mission had been a quiet one so far, he feared they would be caught off guard one day, and then it would all be over.

Giving his head a  _hard_ shake in an effort to banish these thoughts, Danse’s measured steps slowed to only a third of what it had been. He refused to bring back those memories; he needed every ounce of focus he could muster.   With the frigid Quincy weather already making everything so  _limited_ , his building anxiety only heightened the effects.

 _Focus, soldier,_  the paladin chastised himself, giving his head another rough shake.  _Succumbing to hypothermia and_ _running_ _the risk of highwaymen ambushing us is the absolute worst time to shut down._ After a third rough shake of his head, he made a complete stop, working on controlling his breathing to shake the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him.

“You okay?” the woman’s voice came over the com, his helmet buzzing with static as she waited on the open line for his response.

Taking a moment to respond, the paladin stated, forcing his tone to be as even as possible, “Of course. Just tripped myself up.” He turned to face her, gesturing off the road vaguely as he added, “Thought I saw something moving in the brush.”

Obviously, a lie. But he had nothing else to give her.

Standing just out of his reach as they faced one another on the open Quincy roads, her helmet seemed to only increase the silence between them.

After a moment, he heard her scoff quietly. “Paladin Danse, keeper of traditions and all things decorum, falling victim to  _tripping?_  A new world order breaks through the Heavens! Hark! Another one bites the dust!” She slightly raised her hammer toward the sky, a laugh curbing her proclamation.

He half-smiled at her efforts, feeling some of the anxiety melt. He knew he would have to deal with ( _all of_ ) the panic soon, but this was neither the time nor place to do so.

“Let’s find some shelter for the night,” he redirected, his voice tight as he tried to not let his apprehension bleed through the open com.

“Of course, sir,” she said, the smile clear in her voice even as she snapped right back into protocol. Jasper pointed out to the hills off to the Southeast of their position. Danse followed her finger, squinting to see what she was trying to show him. “My Pipboy shows some outlines of houses over there. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find one still standing with four walls and a roof.” The woman paused, the static crinkling through the radio for a few seconds, before adding, “Or any difficulties.”

Hand outstretched, the paladin replied, “Then lead the way for us, Cohen.”

As he watched her go, swinging her hammer nonchalantly like a broom sweeping at a dusty floor, Danse’s stomach fluttered. Keeping his professionalism was becoming harder with every passing day, and pinning the emotions in place long enough to analyze what he was feeling was even more difficult.

It didn’t take much analyzing to see that he really _was_  the luckiest Brotherhood soldier; it was more evident to see that she made him so.

**|0|0|0|**

Just as she’d hoped, there was exactly one house in the entirety of the suburb that remained standing. It had a generator in its basement (no longer working, unfortunately, but it held a half-depleted power core they gladly added to their stash to be recharged later) and plenty of rooms that they could choose between. There were even some Old World relics littered throughout the house, even if most of it had been eaten away over the years or had solidified into being no more useful than an irradiated paperweight.

Danse made an offhand comment in surprise that this area hadn’t been completely overrun by Gunners, being this close to Interstate 93.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Jasper offered, “Frigid weather tends to keep the pests at bay.” He gave a noncommittal shrug, but she could see he was still worried. “What’s the worst that could happen?” she asked, hoisting her hammer over her shoulder. “We’ve got this in the bag a dozen times over. They wouldn’t stand a chance against us.”

“True,” he told her. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

They decided to set up a perimeter and to check the interior of the house just to be sure nothing would prevent them a safe stay.

Patrolling a quarter-mile in every direction indicated pretty quickly that there was no life in these ruins, as most of the homes had been reduced to only foundations and any other structures that miraculously remained standing seemed like they would fall if the wind blew hard enough.

By the time they’d finished setting up tripwires throughout the suburb and returned to their shelter, the sun had already set.

They decided, strategically and resource-wise, that holing up in the living room was their best option: being the most easily defendable position in the house as well as the only room with solid walls to keep it insulated, getting it to warm up ( _and stay warm_ ) would not be a challenge.

Danse pulled out of his armor quickly, rubbing his stubbled face the moment he was freed.  He looked outside one of the living room’s windows, his eyes glazed over as he muttered, “We’ll have to use our emergency rations, at least until we hit another supply cache or cross paths with a caravan.” He stifled back a yawn as he added, “Scavenging doesn’t seem like an option for this area, either. It’s been picked clean.”

“I still don’t think the Gunners would want to come down here,” Jasper said, working at her power armor’s core to set it into stand-by mode. “It’s far too cold, and they don’t have the armor to stay insulated as we do. What use would they have with an old suburb, anyway?”

He pulled his hood down and ran his hands through his sweaty hair, sighing as he dug around in his suit’s chest compartment, “Even if that’s the case, this is our last quadrant to search.” Taking out two water cans, he tossed one over to her and opened the other for himself, downing it in a few gulps. “The last thing we need to do is overlook something, and  _something_  has happened here.”

“What could that have been?” she asked, snapping the can out of the air.

Danse was quiet for a while, his brow furrowing as the silence stretched between them. “Synths, most likely,” the paladin finally said. Jasper watched his face, but couldn’t make any clear indication on what he was thinking.

“Like you said, Danse,” Jasper sighed, placing the can down. “This place has been picked clean; it could’ve happened  _years_  ago. There isn’t much we can overlook when there’s nothing  _here_.”

He was fiddling with his dog tags. “But it’s what  _is_ here that has me concerned.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “What would synths want with the _only_  house remaining in this suburb?” Jasper pressed. “The Institute has technology beyond anything the Commonwealth has – what would they gain from  _trash?_ ”

Danse remained quiet as her voice rose, and he couldn’t meet her eye. She walked over and patted him on the shoulder once. “ _Please_ , let’s just rest. There’s still a lot of Quincy left, and spring is coming soon.”

He looked as tired as she felt, but she saw his jaw clench as if he wanted to keep fighting. After a moment, he told her, “You go ahead and sleep. I’ll take up the first watch, and wake you up at sunrise.”

Feeling frustrated, Jasper said, pulling away from him, “Actually, a shower would be nice. Let me go see if the pipes still work.” It was the nicest thing she could say at the moment, even if her tone was biting.

Danse didn’t make any outward indication of her tone, instead, nearly leaping out of the home as he said, “I’ll go clear a spot out back, then, just in case.”

He was gone before she could say anything else.

Anger vibrated just beneath her skin as she snatched the forgotten water up, pulling the tab harshly as she knocked the can back. She squeezed her eyes tightly as the cool liquid coated her parched throat, imagining the liquid was something much more buzz-inducing.

In this case, simply wishing for it didn’t make it so.

She  _so badly_ wanted to scream, to get this frustration out, but she didn’t know what to do. The entire time they’d been out here, Danse had been dismissing Jasper’s concerns left and right, as if he had something to  _prove_  by taking up more work than he alone was capable of completing.

If he didn’t want her to do the work, why in the world did he ask her to come out here? Survival was only achieved by  _both_ of them working. It made her feel so  _useless,_ despite the fact that she knew she wasn’t. She was _more_ than capable of handling herself – why was Danse so  _hell-bent_ on acting like she was fragile?

Her agitation over his increasingly dismissive behavior hadn’t grown enough to make a comment to him just yet, but his constant double-checking and too-long stares had become so persistent that Jasper wondered if his face was permanently twisted into a worried, disappointed glower. 

It reminded her of the looks she gathered by relatives and strangers alike when she wanted to go back to work after her honeymoon, and even more-so of the look her husband gave her when she tried to balance her return to work and the sleepless nights of a new mother. The questioning looks asking her,  _Are_ _you sure you’ve got this? Honey, maybe you should just focus on one thing at a time. You know, to not stress yourself out? Think of the_ ** _baby_** _._

She wasn’t a  _child_ , Goddammit.

Snatching her shower supplies and an extra change of clothes from one of their duffle bags, Jasper stormed up the stairs to the bathroom.

Looking at herself in the dirty mirror, Jasper began peeling her clothes off tenderly, breathing slowly through gritted teeth. Scars and bruises in various degrees of healing were layered across her skin, but the worst of them all still had to be the venom from the radscorpion in the Glowing Sea.

 _Dammit all,_  she cursed, gently hitting her open palm on the ceramic as she tried to work through the thrumming pain with breathing exercises.  _On top of all this_ _shittiness_ _, my wound decides to act up._ Jasper knew she only had a few doses of pain meds remaining in her emergency pack, and she truly did  _not_ want to use them all up and risk having to take Danse’s.

 _No,_ she decided with a rough shake of her head.  _He’d know if he was missing inventory. He would never let me hear the end of it_ _when he figured out what was missing_ _._

Especially not how he’d been behaving towards her lately.

Ripping her eyes from the mirror, she went over to the pipes and gave its knobs an experimental twist – first some awful puffs of rust exploding from the pipes, before a slow stream of mostly-clear water came.

As she ran her Pipboy’s Geiger counter over the water to test its levels of radiation (and lead, though that was the least of her worries), her eyes drifted down to the blackened ripple across her torso.

Fortunately, in its absolute irony, her pain was something she could focus on instead of her Pre-War past coming back to haunt her. As unhealthy as she knew it was to do this, it just made her feel better to rationalize one pain with another – to make it through _this_ agonizing moment and reach the next uninhibited one with as little baggage as possible.

This entire tour had been... well, a  _trip_ for her: as they passed streets and businesses that Jasper had once frequented, memories hit her with a range of emotions that she couldn’t  (and didn’t  _want_ to) entirely process. From fury to disassociation to simply wanting to break down in the nearest hole she found, the woman out of time forced herself to keep marching on – one moment for the next, one pain for another.

Though she hadn’t said anything to Danse (and thankfully the  _perceptive as ever_ paladin did not comment on it, either), it was quite clear this mission had been an awful trip down memory lane for her, especially the longer they remained in isolation with only the other to keep them company. They were grinding on each other, and it was beginning to show.

He was becoming overprotective, and she felt like she was being cornered.

The redhead was thankful that he hadn’t pressed any questions onto her in their many hours of silence, but it still made Jasper wonder how long he was willing to hold his tongue.

Or she of hers, now that this wound’s pain was flaring as frequently as it was.

If it got any worse, Jasper would have no choice but to tell Danse. She  _hated_  that idea, for every reason possible: she’d probably be airlifted out, and that could take anywhere over an hour of waiting and then an hour of flying  _back_  before she’d be given any serious medical attention; her commanding officer would never, ever,  _ever_ ask her to go on another mission if it took them anywhere out of reach from Brotherhood medics, even if Jasper was the most qualified soldier for the job; the woman out of time  _knew_  the looks Danse had been giving her the last few weeks would absolutely be permanent, and any progress she’d made in her depression facing this new pain-riddled future would evaporate as he would most likely distance himself again, leaving her just as lonely as before.

It was inevitable.

And the woman that has had every other thing ripped from her life forcibly  _fucking hated_ that.

She had been wanting to scream a big  _fuck you!_ into the void for the last few days of this tour, but found no pleasure in the idea anymore. It was too exhausting, seeing as how  _every time_ something slightly decent came her way it was ripped out of her hands before she could fully appreciate it.

Her Pipboy beeped at her suddenly, drawing her attention back to the water. The tiny green screen deemed the water was safe, even if its highest temperature only came to be mildly cooler than a cup of coffee.

 _Better than nothing,_  the soldier sighed, carefully unpinning her fire-kissed hair as she mentally prepared herself for the tepid shower.  _Maybe it’ll help_ _ease_ _the pain._

(It didn’t.)

**|0|0|0|**

The two Brotherhood soldiers reconvened in the living room, the room a (thankfully) comfortable warmth, even with the ancient, bare windows. It almost reminded her of the Prydwen’s mechanic’s shop, down to the smell of the hydraulic fluids and burning grease and the air similar to the warmth of a running car engine.

He settled into his bedroll while Jasper quietly munched on what she guessed (and hoped) was an MRE meatloaf, both listening to the crickets chirping outside the windows. She drank another can of water and used the last few swigs to brush her teeth, eventually settling down into her own bedroll with a comfortable sigh.

Not even a minute passed before the paladin shuffled out of his bedroll, pulling his jumpsuit back into place over his shoulders. The woman watched through half-lidded eyes as he began the process to turn his power armor out of stand-by mode, watching his hands work along the suit’s knobs and panels.

A million things Jasper wanted to say to him rolled through the back of her mind, but any speech she wanted to utter died in her throat.

She’d speak with him later. She was still too upset with things to want to settle anything between them.

Before he left, she drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t the  _best_  sleep she’d had, but Jasper couldn’t help but rouse herself from sleep when the early morning sunshine hit her squarely in her face.

 _Any sleep is better than none,_  she thought with a groan, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she worked the knots out of her back. Pushing herself up off her roll, she stretched, feeling her muscles spasm as her bones cracked and settled. She promised herself she wouldn’t push herself too hard, but made no reservations if the worst came to be. She knew any overexertion would make the night’s previous flare-up worsen, but it was a risk Jasper had to take.

The redhead could clearly hear Danse’s footsteps as he climbed up the old home’s crumbling concrete steps. He shuffled into the old home, his armor looking odd amongst the Old World architecture.

“Morning,” he offered as she stood up, his voice warbling through the suit’s radio.

With a curt nod, Jasper replied smoothly, “Good morning.” She carefully collected her bedroll and placed it with her duffle bag, situating her flight suit back into its proper position on her body.

She went to her suit and began to pull her suit from its own stand-by mode, watching her companion from the corner of her eyes as he slipped from his armor, looking nearly dead from exhaustion. Though her suit’s start-up thrum was calming to her, the irritation from the night began to resurface.

Jasper tried not to dwell on it; new day, new start, after all.

(Even if forcing himself beyond the edge of exhaustion was  _not_  fair, as her officer and as the only other person out here that she could rely on.)

Waiting for her armor’s systems to fully wake up, Jasper decided to take a quick look at her inventory, ammunition, and emergency supplies to see if she needed to keep an eye out for anything in particular, if she happened to get lucky while out on patrol.

Halfway through the search, Jasper heard a hard _thud_ behind her, forcing her to turn in reaction.

Danse, sprawled over his bedroll, had barely pulled his jumpsuit past his hips before flopping onto the unzipped bedroll.

He looked like a teenager that stayed up all night to finish a school project. The thought would’ve brought a smile to her face if she wasn’t feeling frustrated. “Sleep well, Danse,” Jasper offered instead, returning to her inventory.

“Not sleeping,” came the paladin’s muffled voice, his bedroll catching most of his voice. She rolled her eyes.

“Surprised you didn’t fall asleep standing up.” She heard him attempt to chuckle. “Did anything interesting happen last night?” Jasper asked after a few moments.

There was an extended silence, and Jasper thought he’d fallen asleep. Turning to look at him to see if that was the case, she saw him shaking his head into the bedroll, his head lolling to either side.

“Well, then,” she started after a moment. “Keep your secrets.”

He was snoring before she even finished her sentence.

Shaking her head, the woman carefully set her blanket over the sleeping Danse, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm.

“Stubborn man,” Jasper muttered. “You’ll be in an early grave pushing yourself this hard.”

 _Like she_   _was one to_ _talk._

She took a granola bar out of her suit’s chest compartment and idly ate the dry baked good, humming to the quiet thrum of her power armor. So many things kept running through her head, on what to say to Danse about his behavior as of late and how she should work out the awful memories working to the forefront of her mind, but nothing she came up with seemed to be a viable solution. It was as frustrating as it was heartbreaking.

Her power armor gave off a quiet beep when its switch was complete, pulling her out of her thoughts like an alarm coaxing her out of deep sleep.

With a sigh, Jasper steeled herself mentally for the long day ahead. She finished her small breakfast and pinned her hair loosely on top of her head, quickly entering her suit and syncing up her Pipboy to the suit’s HUD.

 _And now_ _her_ _watch_ _began._

**|0|0|0|**

As the day droned on, nothing beyond a family of radstags approached the suburb, leaving her to an otherwise uneventful morning. Jasper felt drained only in the sense that she was _bored out of her mind._  She’d wished she had something to do.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Jasper’s eyes scoured the ground, her eyes flickering over the HUD notifications from her Pipboy. Though there certainly was no enemy activity on her map,  _nothing else_  was happening in the immediate area either.

It was rare to find an area this thoroughly cleaned of anything – scrappable goods  _or_ trash. She didn’t have any theories as to what could have been the cause of this, since she herself had cleaned Sanctuary Hills nearly as thoroughly. Perhaps it  _had j_ ust been the Gunners, and Danse was being his usual self by overthinking things.

Even though the state in which they found this home was odd, it was  _more_ insane to believe the Institute would want scraps from an old neighborhood in the middle of nowhere.

Either way, who was she to make random assumptions?

Scrolling through her Pipboy’s map idly, she noticed a small pin on the map with a title hovering above the spot: _Quincy police station._ She immediately recognized the building. From what she remembered of her brief visit a few months ago, the redhead knew Danse would want to take a look himself, even if it mostly held junk.

It’d be a change of pace, at least.

Making her way back to their hideaway, she was greeted with the sight of Danse preparing their packs by the front steps, his hair wet and face newly shaven. Jasper gave him a wave when she saw him turn to face her clunking footsteps, to which he returned with a slow wave and a squinty expression. As he reentered the home, Jasper could feel the anxiety beginning to bloom inside of her chest.

And with it, the flare-ups of pain.

Grasping her hammer with both hands, the woman gave it a harsh swing, trying to work off the feelings with very little success.  _Just another day,_  she told herself, breathing as steadily as her spiking pain would allow.  _Another day of awkward looks_ _and_ _half-concealed worry_ _, and pain on top of that._

When he exited the house once more, it was in his power armor. He tossed her a pack as he saddled another over his shoulder, his voice warbling over the radio, “Let’s roll out.”

He closed the channel before she could think to reply.

 _He’s in a mood,_  Jasper thought, strapping the pack to her back as she let Danse take point towards Interstate 93.  _Wonder what’s wrong today?_

The words she’d put off telling him before resurfaced, pinching at the back of her throat like too much whiskey on an empty stomach – but she again couldn’t find the energy to say any of it to him. She thought back to the police station, knowing that the further they walked South, it would take twice as long to get to the station.

Opening a radio line to the paladin, Jasper began, already making her way over to the building, “Danse, there’s an old police station not too far from our current position. We can find some supplies in there, if my memory stands.”

“Send me the coordinates.”

Giving him the location, he gave her a swift “thanks” and returned the line to static. Though he left the COM open this time, he was being distant for a reason.  Pairing that with the fact he kept going along Interstate 93, not making any obvious directional changes, Jasper  _knew_ something was up with the paladin.

Finally, too frustrated to hold it in any longer, she asked, watching his marker walk farther away, “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” There was an immediate pause, hardly a second, before Danse added, “I’m sorry. That was harsh.”

Jasper barely recognized his biting tone before he’d apologized, but passively accepted his apology anyway. “Do you want some space?” she asked instead. “I can go by myself, and you can keep scouting ahead. I shouldn’t be very long.”

She could imagine the paladin shaking his head as he replied, “No. Being out here has been...” He sighed, and the line went to static for a moment. The longer the silence became, the more she felt herself becoming anxious.

He eventually said, “I know I wouldn’t be this calm on the Prydwen. Not with what’s been going on up there.”

“‘Calm’ isn’t exactly what I would call it,” she shot back. “The Institute has been quiet for months, and we’re the only two soldiers trying to figure out why. And,” she snarled, swinging her hammer harshly among the bushes, “we’re no closer to finding the answer than we were weeks ago.”

_And no close to Shaun._

Danse was quiet for a moment, murmuring, “Though I agree with the sentiment, all things reveal themselves in time.” An audible sigh came over the radio as the paladin added, “We need to keep looking. That’s all we can do.”

Huffing, the woman said, “What if we don’t find anything out here?”

“Return to the Prydwen with the information we  _do_ have,” came his cool answer. “The Gunners haven’t been met on the roads, and synths haven’t attacked any settlement, even this far out.”

“Guess we’ll just have a celebration when we get back,” Jasper said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Maxson is just going to have to deal with being disappointed.”

Once again, the line went silent for a long while.

“Danse?” she eventually asked, just to cut through the static. It was giving her a headache.

“I just realized,” he said, quietly, “the Brotherhood didn’t celebrate Christmas this year.”

Pausing in her stroll, the woman had to work through half a dozen emotions before asking, a laugh curbing her words, “You still celebrate  _Christmas?_ ” She was honestly surprised, if not dumbstruck that  _that_ was what he was focusing on at the moment.

“Probably not how you would have done it,” Danse quickly replied. “Lots of drinking, plenty of physical and social activities for the soldiers to blow off some steam, a feast that would feed three times the Prydwen’s population, more than enough downtime to work on repopulating the Prydwen...”

Jasper kicked at the rocks as she trekked, humming softly. “Sounds pretty much like what we’d do. Without, y’know.” She waved her hand even though he couldn’t see it. “The openness of sex and the encouragement of violence being involved.”

He said, confusion clear in his voice, “I still don’t understand that Pre-War sentiment. It seems counter-intuitive, and awfully restricting.”

“You could say that,” she muttered, looking up to see the police station’s faded billboard a few hundred feet away. “Hey, I’m almost there. I don’t see you on my radar anymore. Did you decide to keep going along the superhighway?”

“There is a giant’s sculpture between the station and my location,” came the simple reply. “I decided that taking the long way around would lead to less of a chance of waking it up.”

Damn. They really  _were_ that far South.

“I’ll go ahead and check the interior then, Danse,” Jasper said. “At the very least to make sure there aren’t any traps hiding in the doorways. It’s been a while since I was here last.”

“Roger that.”

Quickly, before the line would close, she added, “Let me know when you’re here.”

He hummed in acknowledgment over the radio before it shut off.

Sighing, the redhead half-jogged over to the seemingly abandoned station, her eyes scanning the dusty ground and weed-infested trash piles for any mines or bear traps. The last thing she wanted to do was play chicken with death because twice wasn’t enough for her.

Thankfully, nothing nefarious was before her, and she entered the building without hassle beyond shrugging open the ancient, rusted door.

Jasper’s memory of her prior visit with Nick to help him find the Winter Tapes came back like a tidal wave, but, unlike that time, there were no enemies to be found. A thorough sweep of the different offices showed that, indeed, she was the only living creature here.

Out of  _all_ the places in the Commonwealth, this  _one building_ was missing of any bugs, mutants, Gunners, synths, or ghouls.

Perhaps it was just her luck turning around.

It certainly hadn’t changed much since she came here with Nick: tables and desks they had flipped over remained that way, with piles of what she couldn’t keep from the prior visit waiting inside the trunk in the basement’s cells. Jasper made a mental note to send a thank you card to Nick for reminding her to put this stuff in a hiding spot in the first place.

Quickly, Jasper stuffed the useful items into her chest compartment, with plenty of room left to spare for some other little trinkets. On her HUD she saw a new marker appear, and even before she took a look at it, she knew it was Danse.

“Welcome back,” she said after opening a line to him. “Took you a while to get here.”

With a huff, he replied, “My path deviated.”

 _Oh no,_  she thought with a giggle. “What happened?” Jasper felt like she knew the answer before he even gave it. When he remained silent, her suspicions were confirmed. “Did you fall into a swamp puddle?”

He gave her a disgruntled hum of acknowledgment.

Audibly laughing over the line, she reassured him, “It’s okay, Danse. I did it on my first time out here, too. I had to take it to the Atom Cats to get my first suit detailed, otherwise, it would’ve gotten everywhere. It absolutely  _reeked_.”

“ _Great_ ,” came his sour reply.

“You have something against the Cats?” Jasper questioned, heading out to the front of the station to wait for Danse (and, partially to see what condition his suit was in).

“Not necessarily,” he sighed. His form was just visible beyond the chest-high grasses and mutated trees, his helmet bobbing with each monstrous step. “I have respect for anyone who takes care of power armor to the degree they do.”

There was a beat, and it sounded like he wasn’t finished with his thought.

“But?” Jasper pried.

“ _But_ , they keep...  _tagging_ their armor. In increasingly... non-military designs.”

Jasper waited, but again he refused to continue. “I think it’s quite charming,” she said. “Personalizing your own armor makes it more than just a tool. Power armor is an extension of yourself, and they just push the practice a bit further. Isn’t that what the Brotherhood always preaches?”

“I suppose,” Danse resigned. He sounded deflated at her questions, but she wouldn’t push it any further. He’d been more than willing to answer her questions, and he deserved some slack. He finally came into full view, and Jasper couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face.

“It isn’t  _that_ bad!” she chided. “It’s, what, up to your knees at the worst?”

“My uniform will get ruined if I step out like this,” he reminded her, almost sounding disappointed. “And it  _already_ reeks.”

“You’re right.” Jasper kicked at some rocks, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought out loud, “I guess we’ll head to the Atom Cats after this? It isn’t that far. Maybe we could get air-lifted out, if you think they’ll let us come back this early?”

“It depends on what the Prydwen orders us to do.”

“Oh, well,” Jasper said, feigning disappointment. “We were having  _so_ much fun out here anyway.”

Waving his hand at her, he passed her into the police station, his helmet light swinging around as he looked everywhere. The redhead followed the paladin inside, closing the door behind her.

“The place is basically empty,” she said, kicking over a trashcan with her hammer. “I was here once before, and we’d cleaned it of the Gunner trash.”

He hummed at the word  _we_ but didn’t say anything untoward.

“Anything useful?” Danse questioned, flipping over some of the tables and rattling them until the drawers came loose.

She shook her head. “Not beyond scraps. I already grabbed everything I had previously stashed away, but I think some of the computers could be salvaged by the scribes.” Another hum from the paladin.

“I see some weapons discarded. Were they the Gunners’?”

“Yeah,” Jasper immediately replied. “Even before the Brotherhood made me into a proper fighter, these mercenaries didn’t really stand a chance.” She couldn’t help but feel pride swell in her chest. It  _was_ true, and Danse was the biggest reason why she was still here, fighting as hard as she was.

Though, she did have to admit that her sledgehammer did most of the work back then.

After a moment, the woman added, “I think some of these weapons weren’t Gunner-property.” He turned to face her, his emotionless helmet staring at her as she tried to formulate her response. “I found most of them with the skeletons at the desks.”

Danse took a moment before he said, “I see.” A pause, then: “Their loss, I suppose. We’ll put them together and let the retrieval team know, then.” He continued to look around, finally stopping at what few bookshelves remained. “Are these still useful?”

Shrugging, already pulling apart some of the desks, Jasper said, “I don’t really know. Anything that can be read still has some value, I suppose.”

He picked up one book in particular, asking, “And this?”

Turning to face the paladin, she had to come closer to make out anything on the degraded cover, carefully looking it over in her obscenely large gloved hands.

Her heart sank immediately, and a fire started to burn where it had been before.

Forcing her voice to remain even, Jasper said, “I had one of these when I got married. I didn’t have the time to read it. This one is too destroyed for much use.” She handed it back to him, struggling to keep her eyes off of the cover. “Pity, really.”

“Oh,” came the simple response. He tossed the book on the ground unceremoniously. “Let’s keep looking, then.”

 _Yes, please,_ Jasper thought, trying to focus on anything but the awful memories.  _Scrap over crap any day, please._


	2. Old Fashioned

It wasn’t long before they finished clearing up the old police station and radioed back to the Prydwen for scrap retrieval. It also didn’t take very long for them to close up the decrepit building and make their way toward the Atom Cats’ garage. (Of course, Jasper called ahead of time and asked for their assistance in maintenance, all of which they were  _thrilled_  to do – whoever else gets to touch Brotherhood armor other than Ingram?)

Zeke was the first to greet them, wearing his flame-detailed armor and a broad grin on his face as he welcomed the two soldiers into their home. Though the paladin seemed supremely anxious, the woman out of time was ready to jump into the Atom Cats’ hot showers and take a nap on an actual bed.

“Step on up, Daddy-O!” Zeke dramatized, a low groan coming from Danse as several Atom Cats guided him into one of their buildings. “You’ll be made in the shade!”

“See you later!” Jasper called to her officer as she stepped out of her own armor. She gave him a wave, holding back a laugh as he was corralled into the shop by four mother hens. Turning to a nearly star-struck Roxy, the redhead asked, “Would you be able to do mine, too?”

“Of course, sugar,” the newly christened Cat purred. “Classy chassis are my flips.”

Jasper tried her damnedest to hide her laughter, but couldn’t hold back the biggest smile she’d probably had in  _months_. “Thanks again, Roxy. I owe you one.” The Atom Cat waved her hand nonchalantly as she skipped to the building the others had gone in, shortly coming back out with a forklift. The redhead couldn’t help but feel a flutter of relief, knowing that even though these mechanics weren’t Brotherhood-affiliated, they were the only other people she could trust with any of her power armor sets.

She knew she was safe here.

The evening went by in a blur for the woman out of time, blasting her into an odd feeling of nostalgia with a nearly-identical 1950s diner-set up in one of the old barns, chrome and bright colors and too-shiny ceramic tiling everywhere she looked. An old jukebox was on display by the bar, some of its neon tubing broken but otherwise still playable. Jasper was in this part of their base most of the evening (after an absolutely  _delightful_ shower), eating grilled radstag off of old Nuka-Cola collector’s plates and drinking the coldest Nuka-Cola she’d had in a while as she joked around with the off-duty Atom Cats.

It was a very nice, _well-deserved_ change of pace.

She hopped off to bed after several hours of dancing and laughing with these kids, hoping Danse was faring well for himself. The redhead could only imagine the onslaught of questions he’d been answering, and couldn’t hold back another wide smile at the thought of Danse finding common ground with these greaser enthusiasts.

**|0|0|0|**

In the morning, both suits left the garage glistening in the sunshine. It was a wonder how much dirt and grime had gotten onto their suits, but it absolutely _thrilled_ Jasper to see not only the Atom Cats excited, but also to see the paladin share the same outward giddiness.

It was almost like a switch had flipped for him, and he seemed to be much more relaxed. A  _welcomed_ change from his overwhelming worry.

“You seem to be happy,” Jasper said when they were far enough away from the garage.

Danse gave her a half-shrug, but she could imagine the smile on his face as he said, “You could say that.”

“Guessing you had a great time last night, then?” The paladin laughed a  _real_  laugh, a sound that made Jasper’s heart flutter. Maybe things were getting back to normal between them?

“They were absolutely ruthless in their questioning,” he began, waving his hands around as he spoke slowly. “Their...  _lingo,_ as they called it, was  _so_ confusing to understand for the first hour. When we got past that barrier, everything became clear.”

“It’s an acquired taste, I guess,” Jasper mused. “I think I had a grandmother who used some of those phrases, but never to this extent.”

“But it wasn’t  _terrible,_ ” he quickly explained. “It was –” The paladin paused, slowing his walking speed down to a near standstill. The redhead stopped beside him, waiting for him to speak. “Getting coordinates for the vertibird now.”

“Wait, really?” She didn’t think that Maxson would actually want them to come back to the Prydwen. Maybe something had happened while they were out? “So, we’re going home? Just like that?”

“Even better,” Danse said, a smile showing clearly in his voice. “But it’s a surprise.”

Jasper sighed, but didn’t press. If it was enough to make  _Danse_  sound this excited, she knew she’d surely be in for a ride. Brotherhood festivities were still new to her, even if it was familiar to the old swing she’d taken with her husband.

After waiting nearly an hour for the vertibird pick up and then subsequent ride, Danse told Jasper upon landing at the airport that he’d finish with the report debrief to Quinlan and told her to “just enjoy herself.”

Adding, “Don’t forget to put your Sunday best on, Cohen.”

It was as ominous as it was exciting. Either way, she promised him that she would pamper herself.

But first, she had to survive Cade.

He would be the first to see her medical supplies had been nearly depleted and would be able to see she hadn’t been taking the medicine as regularly as she should have been.

Even with the nervous energy she had for Cade’s check-up, entering the medbay was a sad experience for her. It held still-raw memories, but she promised herself it would be a quick visit to the good doctor.

Speaking of: the medical officer sat waiting by the bed she knew far too intimately, reading over some paperwork. Without looking up, he said as she entered, “Glad to see you’re still in one piece, Cohen.”

She made a face at his words. Before she could even say anything, Cade chuckled, interjecting, “Was Danse that compliant in my orders of not straining yourself?”

Jasper groaned, “ _Beyond_.”

Laughing, he took his glasses off and motioned for the bed. “This will be quick.”

Sitting down in a huff, the woman unzipped her flight suit and raised her undershirt over her head – normal procedure at this point in her recovery. Cade poked gently at the radscorpion scar, writing a few things down as he asked her the normal questions. She gave back the most basic responses; they’d done this dance too many times before.

“Well, I’m glad to see that you didn’t overexert yourself out there,” Cade finally told her. “Just keep doing those stretches, okay? The skin seems to be healing well.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, pulling her clothes back over her head. “Is there anything else you need me to do?” He hadn’t asked about her medicine, or looked through her storage. Maybe she was off the hook?

Standing up, a smile on his face, he said, “Just one thing.” He went back into his office, shuffling a few things around, before bringing out a carefully wrapped box.

“What is it?” she asked, her brows furled.

“A gift from Danse,” the medical officer hummed.

Her eyebrows raising, Jasper asked, “Really?  _How?_ We just got back.” He nonchalantly shrugged as he handed her the box.

“You can use our showers here. We still have some of your items, after all.” He got up and went back into his office before she could argue.

With a huff, she muttered, turning the box over carefully, “I guess it would give me some privacy.”

After a well-needed warm shower, Jasper took her time for this “surprise” the paladin had warned her about. Cade even gave her a round of applause when she left the medbay, only making her feel even more excited.

Walking into the belly of the Prydwen wearing a newly-pressed dress ( _hand-made and fitted to her personally, by the way_ ) and her fiery hair carefully curled and pinned up, not to mention a smack of red lipstick and some mascara, the woman out of time felt like a million bucks.

Heads turned to her as the lights hit her, and Jasper immediately knew why Danse had been so eager to get her to pull out all the pampering stops.

A giant tree made of metal stood in the middle of the cafeteria, garland and baubles and flickering lights strung up in the welded branches. Every table had a small lantern with either red or green bulbs dimly illuminating the soldiers sitting there, their faces in various stages of excitement and merrymaking. A room that had once smelled like burnt coffee and old cooking grease now sent her back to a time when she was a young,  _young_  Jasper at her grandmother’s house for the holidays, happily snowed-in with woodfire stoves and pies filling the house with love and laughter.

She probably looked  _so_  out of time now more than ever, amongst all of the other  Brothers and Sisters  – but she  _almost_ felt like she was walking into another military ball with her husband.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked over the crowd, the pure awe hitting Jasper in more ways than she could process at the moment.

Her eyes fell onto Danse and they shared a look – gleaming eyes and curious glances shooting their way – as he stood up, waving at her to come sit with him. He was sitting closer to the center of the cafeteria, so she had to carefully scoop up her skirts and shimmy her way past plenty of half-drunken, nearly food-coma-induced soldiers.

When she got close enough, Danse placed his hand tenderly on her back, helping her to work herself through the small space to sit beside him.

“Well?” he asked, leaning close to her to talk at normal levels. “What do you think?”

“This is beyond anything I’d ever imagined,” Jasper replied, the tears threatening to pool in the corners once more. She laughed slightly, moving to wipe at her eyes, but Danse offered her a handkerchief instead. Laughing more fully now, the woman took it graciously, dabbing at the wetness on her eyes. “You really _are_ prepared,” she half-joked. “And I feel so out of place.”

“Don’t,” Danse interjected. Their eyes met, and his eyes were still gleaming but – different. Insistent. “Please.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t find the strength. The awe was still too immense for her to feel anything but  _excitement_ , and Jasper didn’t want to ruin the brilliant atmosphere with her saying something negative.

“I thought you were talking with Quinlan for the evening?” she instead questioned, gently changing the subject to make him stop staring at her like that. It made more than just butterflies flutter in her stomach.

With a shake of his head, he said, “That’s what I thought, too. However, I already gave most of my briefing via radio the other night, so Quinlan decided to give everyone a well-deserved night off.”

Her brow knit in confusion at that. “When did you find the time to put out a report?” Danse waved a hand nonchalantly. “No, really, was this when we were out scouting?” That made her a little irritated, but it did sound like something Danse would do.

“Please,” he pressed, his brow furling as his deep brown eyes pleaded. “Let’s not talk about it now.” He offered her a steaming cup, and she found her mouth begin to water as she recognized it. “Let me show you how to celebrate like a Brotherhood soldier?”

Half-grumbling, the smells becoming too much for her, Jasper said sternly as she took the mulled apple cider, “We’re  _so_  not done talking about this.”

He put his hands up, his eyebrows raising as he laughed, “No arguments there.”

She took a calculated look at the mug in her hands, the speckled cider’s steaming wisps hitting her nose with all the right notes. Taking a long drink from the too familiar cup, the woman out of time no longer felt so displaced.

It tasted like home, and she certainly felt it too.

A few drinks and several extra helpings later, Jasper found herself dancing with some of the other soldiers, all of those in the cafeteria having pushed the tables far enough back to make a small area to do so. She hadn’t smiled or laughed this hard in a long time, and she almost felt like it was too good to be true. Even with the ball gown, it had become a challenge to see which soldier could match her Old-World dancing. It was becoming apparent, however, that no one really had the knowledge of these dances and their attempts at mimicking her had become more of a workout than a challenge, but it was still was  _so fun_  to dance and not feel silly amongst her peers.

The few glimpses of Danse she caught throughout the night made Jasper’s heart leap into her throat each time. He had a particularly neutral look on his face when he was alone, and with other soldiers he seemed to light up his corner of the room as much as the Christmas tree did – but when she saw him staring at  _her_ , it was as if Jasper and Danse had suddenly become the only two people in the room.

And right now, that feeling had caught her once more as he gave her a half smile and a beckoning finger.

When the song she was dancing to ended, she gave the soldier she was partnered with a tight hug, patting him on the shoulder as she made her way through the crowd to the wall-hugging Danse.

“Won’t you come join us?” the redhead asked, breathless for more reasons than the dancing. Another song began to play over the speakers, so she leaned on her tip-toes to reach Danse’s ear to speak normally. “This isn’t just for me, you know.”

He gave her a lopsided grin, waving a hand at her when she pulled away. “Maybe later. I have something I want to show you?” He turned his hand over and offered it to her, which the woman gladly took. He led her out of the cafeteria down the hall, coming closer to his room near the flight deck. Though they were only down the hall from the festivities, the only indication of the celebration came in the form of the bass vibrating through the metal floor.

It was so surreal, but it was nice to not have her ears ringing from the volume of the music.

Leading her inside, he asked her to sit on his bed and close her eyes.

Squinting, Jasper felt suspicious. “What for, Danse?”

“It’s a  _surprise,_ ” the paladin chided, a wide smile plastering his face.

“Other than this dress?”

Danse gave her a stern look, with that same damn tone as he asked her, “ _Please_ , Jasper.”

Rolling her eyes, the redhead did as she was told. “This had better not be a prank,” she warned. Danse simply chuckled, giving her his word that it wasn’t.

There was some shuffling of his items as he walked all around the room, probably to get her thrown off the trail of what he was doing. Jasper grew nervous, but it was a _giddy_  nervous, and she was completely at ease while she remained with her eyes closed, in her officer’s private quarters, alone from the world as the rest of the Brotherhood continued their merrymaking in the cafeteria.

“I didn’t really know what to get you for your first Brotherhood Christmas,” Danse began, his words following the soft  _thuds_ of his footsteps. “For the last few months, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I should get you anything until we talked about it the other day.”

After a moment, his heavy footsteps came to a stop before her. She could smell his cologne mixing with the cider she’d been drinking all night, a buzz tingling her senses as the excitement built.

“Hold your hands out,” he quietly asked. She complied, her breathing hitched.

“What is –” she tried to asked, but the paladin carefully shushed her. Pouting, Jasper complied.

Danse gently placed something heavy that felt paper-wrapped into her hands. She felt her face scrunch in confusion at the texture, but she didn’t open her eyes yet.

“With some help from the Atom Cats and the scribes here, I asked them to find this for you.” His voice was tense, as if he was excited and nervous all at once, and it put Jasper on an edge to keep waiting.

But he didn’t continue.

After a moment of waiting, Jasper swallowed hard, her heart beating fast in her chest. “Can I look?” she finally asked, when he didn’t move or speak again.

“Yes.” He settled down onto the bed next to her, his combined weight making the old bedsprings quietly complain. “Merry Christmas, Jasper.”

She opened her eyes, and she felt her heart completely stop.

**|0|0|0|**

Danse waited an eternity as Jasper stared at the nearly pristine book sitting in her lap, a completely neutral expression on her face as she just  _stared_. It was so different than what she’d been looking like all night, he wondered if she was just taking the time to process everything.

He wasn’t worried for the first thirty second, with only a slight hint of worry edging over his mind as it stretched beyond a minute.

But at two? Then three?

“I know this was on short notice,” he began, his words beginning to jumble together as his nervousness grew. “And that you probably were caught off guard with everything in the last few days, but I know you had this book before, and you didn’t get the chance to read it, but I thought you’d want  _another_  copy to – to remind you of home, and – I just thought maybe –”

“You thought what, Danse?”

The way her voice turned ice cold was a shock to his system, and he had to stand up and take a few steps away to work off the frigidity. He finally looked up at Jasper, unsure of what to even feel or think.

She didn’t look sad, or happy, or  _anything_ at all, really. It was very surreal.

“Jasper,” he started again slowly, rebuilding his confidence, “did I do something to offend you?”

Her eyes didn’t leave the cover of the book, but the paladin could tell Jasper was thinking long and hard about something. “Danse, I didn’t  _ask_ you to get this for me,” she finally said, measured but still obviously angry.

“Well, you  _didn_ _’_ _t_ ,” he agreed, feeling panic building alongside the confusion, “but I wanted you to feel like you were home again.”

She stood up, looking like a perfect model from one of those old catalogs he’d seen of Pre-War homes, but the anger roiling off of her was  _righteous_. It would have scared him, if he wasn’t so taken aback at her raised voice.

“What do you think my home is, Danse?” Jasper hissed. “What gives you the right to make me  _want_ to go back? Maybe there’s a reason I don’t want it anymore!”

“Wait,” he interjected, shaking his head. He felt his voice raise, too, and he felt more confused than anything as to why  _he_ was being yelled at. “We’re still looking for your  _son_  – of course you want your old life back! That’s the entire point of this, isn’t it?”

At his words, she gave an awfully cold, bitter laugh, tossing the book onto the bed as she stood up. Jasper stormed across his room, her heels clicking on the floor’s grating as she paced his quarters, her ball gown odd amongst his Brotherhood personal items. She looked glorious, but the fury rolling off of her was awful when it was directed at him.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she muttered eventually, shaking her head. “God, how was I so  _stupid_  to think you would ever understand?”

Danse stood up and tried to comfort her, his hands out but unsure of what to do with them. She was always half a step ahead of him, though. “ _What_ don’t I understand?” he pleaded. “How can I rectify my mistake if I have no clue what I’ve done wrong?”

“Did you even read the book?”

Her words were harsh, undoubtedly biting as she questioned him, but the paladin didn’t feel the sting of the question when the absolute _agony_ was dripping off every syllable she uttered.

“No,” Danse finally admitted, stopping as she went over to his bed and sat down. He watched as she flipped through the pages, looking for something as if she’d done it hundreds of times.

Holding up the book, she read aloud, “ _A woman’s role in the last few decades has morphed into something that the modern man has not yet been accounting for: feminism. This term has held many meanings since its conception, from seeking suffrage to inappropriate public appearances, but the underlying meaning has nefarious purposes in one’s household. It will begin with benign comments and actions, such as asking for boundaries and privileges beyond what traditional marriage a_ _nd societal roles al_ _low, and will become more malicious the further the women in your life go down the rabbit hole._ ”

Jasper flipped the page, hardly taking in a breath ( _hardly even looking at the page_ ) as she continued without missing a beat, “ _A woman must be dealt with early on when she begins these types of musings – holding her own accounts, bringing in her own separate income from her providing husband’s work, taking time and resources_ _away from her duties of_ _child-rearing and homemaking – because she will only make a mockery of herself and the household she belongs to_ _, setting dangerous precedents for the next generation_ _._ ”

With one more page being flipped, her eyes scanned the page before adding, her words warbling as a tremor ran through her voice, “ _Encouraging a woman to fill her head with these ideals of ’independence’ and_ _an all-_ _female power_ _base_ _will undermine everything_ _scientific studies have proven beyond the shadow of a doubt_ _, and will bring about the end of this great nation._ ”

She closed the book and stared long and hard at the dumbstruck paladin. “And that was only the preface.”

He stood there, wishing he could just disappear.

“I,” he took a cautious step forward, watching for any signs of her recoiling, “am  _so_  sorry, Jasper.” She made no movement other than to watch his every move like a turret waiting for a chance to open fire. He took it as a good sign, that she was  _listening,_ and he didn’t want to let everything disintegrate because of his failure.

“I am so,  _so_  stupid for not even thinking beyond my selfish desires. I wanted something for you and I should have waited for something –” He gestured to the book, and her eyes barely flickered down to follow. “– for  _anything_ better than this.”

Carefully, the paladin sat beside her on the bed, even more painstakingly gently removing the book from her white-knuckled grip to toss it onto the floor. He kept her hands in his large, calloused ones, Danse searching her face for any sign he’d crossed a boundary. “I truly, sincerely apologize for harming you. I do not understand much of Pre-War life, and it did not occur to me that the harm from your life would, or even could, still follow us here.”

Her lip quivered as he spoke, but she remained silent and ever-glaring.

Swallowing hard, Danse continued, “Your time held ideas that were, to say the least,  _fucked up_.” Her face cracked at his words, leaving Jasper to choke on the now-spilling tears, but it was heartbreaking to see the change in emotion. He handed her the handkerchief from earlier again. “Please, let me know how I can fix this.”

_I’ll do anything,_ echoed in his mind, but he dared not utter it.

She took the handkerchief once more, dabbing at her eyes as the tears left warm streaks down her cheeks.

“When people got married back in my day,” the woman out of time began, her words warbling with emotions Danse couldn’t identify, “they generally had the guests come into a separate room and they would open their gifts. It was customary to give thanks to the audience in such a public way, so no one felt left out.” She heaved a sigh, closing her eyes tightly.

Danse squeezed her hands, searching her face.

“I was given this book by my husband’s aunt. Dinosaur of a woman, and equally so in societal matters.” Jasper opened her eyes and met his, as if she was asking him something. “I was beginning work at my first law firm, and she’d been vocal about  _my place_  long before I started putting out applications.”

“So, she gave you this book,” he concluded, horror creeping into his expression. “In front of your family and friends?” Jasper nodded, her eyes closing tightly. “For  _what?_ To humiliate you?”

“To make a point.”

Squeezing her hands once more, the paladin’s anger finally unfolded as he understood. “That – that is  _ridiculous!_ Why did she not want you to work there?” He stood up, looking down at her. “You’ve been a  _major_ asset here; any other person would be  _more_ than lucky to have you on their side! What a  _cow_  of a woman, how could she have been so cruel –”

Grasping his hand, she gently tugged him back down to the bed. He followed, but his rage did not subside. “You’re right, Danse.” He watched her, confused.

“I’m what?”

Jasper continued, ignoring his question, “If I wanted to do more than just survive in the Old World, I had to go by society’s rules or be stuck in a hole with no way out. Doors would close for no obvious reason, but for those that didn’t listen to what society expected of us, it was always apparent.”

She vaguely gestured around them. “But here? I’m not given shit for being a woman, or a mother, or a widow. I have my own worth, and it doesn’t reside between my legs.” She squeezed his hands carefully, and their eyes met. “I have survived things only a few have, and even fewer from my world could even fathom – and it’s not because I was a woman that I was made to suffer. It’s because this world  _sucks_ , and even the good people get swept into its filth.”

They were silent, holding each other’s hands as the paladin worked through what Jasper had just told him.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked eventually, his voice hoarse. “What can  _I_ do?” She looked at him with those whiskey-colored eyes, her make-up smudged and her cheeks flushed.

“Promise me you’ll be better than what my world was,” Jasper finally said. “Strive to  _be_ better, and to make a better world for the next generation. That’s all we can ask for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, DangerMom <3 I hope this is okay for you babies!

**Author's Note:**

> After months of lovingly curating this piece, I can finally put it out in one fell swoop. Life has setbacks but fanfiction doesn't have to lol.


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